The hidden room behind The House of Tao's kitchen had no formal name, but Xue Ling called it the "bee hive" because of all the secrecy which surrounded it. It was less a room than a converted dry cellar, only half-tall and lined with shelves stacked in single-minded, almost military neatness: scrolls, ink tablets, a dozen battered ledgers recording debts and favors owed by (and to) every courtesan and servant in the establishment. Bao Zhu liked it because nobody bothered her there—not the maids, not the drunker guests, not even Tao Tao, who considered it unworthy of her aesthetic standards.

Tonight, it belonged to Bao Zhu and Xue Ling. They sat hunched over the single low table, faces lit by the sullen glow of a grease lamp. The rest of the house was in uproar—some incident in the courtyard or a customer refusing to pay his tab—but the walls here were thick, and the noise came through as a distant, reassuring drone.

Xue Ling was reviewing a small stack of memoranda, each folded with the efficiency of a forger and tied with a string. Her eyes moved quickly, left to right, then down, then back up again. She tapped each note in turn, color-coding with tiny slips of cloth as she went.

"Three items in the last week from the girls," she said, not looking up. "First: Imperial Tutor's wife is soliciting an herbalist for sleeping draughts. Second: a rumor that the West Market is flooded with counterfeit lychee wine. Third—" She paused, lips curving into a smirk. "Zhao Minghua will attend the Tutor's banquet tomorrow. In a private salon, at the south end of the garden."

Bao Zhu's mouth went dry at the name; the memories of abuse at the hands of her ex-husband were now as fresh as they would ever be. It had been nearly ten years, and still, it had the power to split her in two. It was as if she had experienced the torment first hand as Yu Lian.

She pressed her palm to the table and kept her voice level. "Alone?"

"With his wife, Lady Zhao, or should I say your one time best friend, Mei Hua," said Xue Ling. She grinned, showing her sharp teeth. "But that's a matter of protocol, not preference. She may not even attend."

Mei Hua—the woman who had beaten her nearly to the point of death when she first arrived in this world; her best friend once upon a time—now she actually knew what that meant; every interaction between them since childhood now as fresh as a wound sustained that morning.

Bao Zhu made a note on the wax tablet between them. "Other guests?"

"The usual mix. A half-dozen minor poets, a couple of rich old men, and the Imperial Tutor himself. Plus the lady from the Lotus Pavilion. She'll be performing a dance at the intermission."

Bao Zhu closed her eyes and called up the floor plan of the Tutor's house—a square, with a rock garden in the center and a ring of shallow reflecting pools. The salon would be set up with screens and low tables, each table attended by a pair of courtesans or entertainers. The real action, as always, would be offstage.

She opened her eyes. "I need you to arrange an introduction. Not for me. For Tao Tao."

Xue Ling raised an eyebrow. "You're not going?"

"They'd recognize me. But Tao Tao—she's the best pipa player in the city now, and everyone knows she's a favorite of several officials. If she's there, she'll draw all the eyes. Minghua won't be able to resist."

Xue Ling sat back, folding her arms. "You still want to ruin him?"

"I want him to suffer," said Bao Zhu, quietly.

Xue Ling studied her for a long time, then nodded. "I'll make it happen. Tao Tao can be ready by noon."

They packed up the notes and the lamp, and Bao Zhu made her way upstairs. The rest of the house was in chaos—someone had indeed let an ox into the courtyard, and the junior staff were chasing it in circles, shouting and tripping over their own feet. Bao Zhu watched from the stairs, half amused, half exhausted.

She found Tao Tao in her private chamber, legs folded under her, tuning her pipa with the care of a mother braiding a child's hair.

"You have an appointment tomorrow," Bao Zhu said, closing the door behind her.

Tao Tao looked up, eyes narrowing. "Whose?"

"Zhao Minghua. At the Tutor's house. You'll play a piece about loss and loyalty. You'll make him remember everything he's tried to forget."

Tao Tao smiled. "What's the price?"

"You get to keep his shame as a trophy," said Bao Zhu.

Tao Tao's fingers plucked a single, mournful note. "Anything for my best friend."

They shared a look, then Bao Zhu left, closing the door softly behind her.